A world flooded with content, I can’t see or move.
Why does everyone look the same?
I move my soul with a swipe of a finger.
What’s a world of copy and paste?
Slipping through the cracks rests some color.
A painting inside a canvas of glass, I can’t feel or touch.
Why we all wish to be the same?
Swayed by the mind, leaving the heart in the dark.
For it’s the heart that makes art, how we’ve forgot.